Chronological Order
by Audrie the Clever Girl
Summary: Hermiones research of Ancient Grecian Magic goes haywire, and she finds herself in the company of Tom Riddle. They must work together to get her back to the future, if they don't kill each other.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Harry Potter / some content will be odd because I'm uploading it from my tumblr and I've been running it as a multi media story. Don't knock it till you try it ! :)**

Tom grumbled as he paced around Borgin and Burke's, placing dusty items on dustier shelves and in clouded cases. They were useless trinkets that the manager would have him hawk at three times the price. Junk. Almost everything in the place was, and the few items that were really, truly magic (nasty pieces of work at that) weren't to be sold. They were kept around to keep the place credible. Occasionally they would be swapped out with something or other equally cursed from a donor, left anonymous.

"Where does he even find this nonsense?"

A gold pendent minted with a sun dial swung from a deteriorating leather thong. Cheap.

"I bet it's not even gold," he held it closer for inspection, huffed some warm air on it with the intend of rubbing it on his coat to see if he could get a shine out of its scuffed surface. When he grabbed it, unexpectedly he felt as if he were no longer alone and his eyes immediately shot to the door. The bell hadn't rang. No one was there. Odd.

Turning around with the intent of hanging it on a display, Tom nearly bowled over a small witch standing behind him. He let out a very undignified yelp that he would deny if it ever got out. Lords were not scared by women.

Her head jerked up, and the confusion was obvious. He was sure he heard her whisper a very unladylike phrase, before she set on a brilliant smile with teeth slightly too large. They gave her face character; though, he wasn't sure he could call her handsome.

"Can I help you miss?"

"Undoubtably," her voice was not as high as he would have thought for someone of her stature, it was womanly. "I've been in here a few times before, you must be new, and I was hoping you could help me with something." She was lying, he had been here for two years and he remembered every idiot that walked through that creaking jingling shop door. She had not been one of them.

"I can try."

"Well I came across this necklace, and I was wondering if you would give me a price for it. Seems rather old, probably cursed, and I might need a place to deposit it in the future, you know how things are." Plenty of people came in for the reason she was suggesting, it was a likely enough reason, there was just one small issue. Everything coming out of the woman's mouth was a lie.

"Let's see it then."

"Oh of course," she fumbled through a beaded hand bag that ate her arm up to the elbow, neat trick. Must come in handy. "Of course, i didn't put it back." she pulled her arm out and instead reached into a coat pocket. Tom now noticed that her clothes were odd, odder than what a witch or wizard normally wore. Nothing she wore was in any style he had ever seen.

"Here it is," she dangled a small gold pendent hanging from delicate gold chain, but it was unmistakably the twin to the one he still had gripped in his hand. He could have laughed, the ridiculousness that the woman would think it were worth anything! That he had one like it in his possession at that very moment and that there were probably a million like it. "One of a kind. It took me forever to get my hands on this little bugger. It was on a nasty old leather thong when I acquired it, but that just wouldn't do for this beauty."

Something on the wall behind him caught her attention, oh the wall clock. She must have seen how late it was getting and needed to hurry on back to her husband soon. He was grateful that she pocketed that junk neckless and made an a mumbled excuse about leaving. He wouldn't have to be the one to tell her that she had been cheated and lied to. He said goodbye as she left through the front door, thinking that she looked rather washed out but thought no more of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom had given little thought to the mysterious girl, and the thought that he had given was mostly embarrassment for the less than manly shriek of surprise he'd let out. Occasionally he wondered how she had gotten in so silently, but there were plenty of patrons that came and went without the use of the door.

Then without noticing he became obsessed with her arrival. Sure, plenty of people came and went stealthily, but he knew all of them. He had never met her, and she was obviously a liar. Plenty of people were liars, but it wasn't till several weeks after the fact that it started to really nag.

He hadn't even asked for her name! What a fool!

Even if he could remember her dark eyes, unruly hair, and dusky skin to a T, it would do absolutely nothing to help find her. Names had power in magic. Descriptions, even picture worthy ones, did not. There was the option of asking around or having one of his "friends" be on the lookout for her, but he didn't want to have people associate them. Still…

It turned out that Tom only had to suffer with his obsession for a few weeks, because one misty morning in the middle of the week she was there again. Her clothes were more fitting the current style, but that was all that had changed. She hadn't bothered to coif her hair or even attempt to tame it as far as he could tell.

"I need to have a word with you." Her voice was stormy, and her feet clomped on the floor heavily as she stomped to the counter. "The necklace," she pulled it out of her pocket and swung it in front of him.

"I remember," he said cooly as if he hadn't been thinking about all the things he was going to ask her if he ever saw her again.

"Where is the one you have?" Her knuckles where white.

It was still tucked away in a cloudy case on a dusty display, perfectly in place. He hesitated to answer though, not sure why he did so.

"I know that you have one," she spun around and started searching the store for it, her hair whipping around her as she spun and ducked and jumped to peer everywhere.

"Over there," he jerked his chin in the opposite direction, and she was on it like a bloodhound. He winced as she clumsily opened the case and pulled the pendent off, and not too gently. "Can I help you?" He finally asked.

The two necklaces were gripped in one of her hands and she was breathing heavily, here eyes were wild.

"Ahhhh! Junk!" She threw them on the ground in rage and he winced. They were still expected to sell it at a decent price, junk or not.

"Well I could have told you that, just look at it."

Her head snapped in his direction as if she had forgotten he was even there. Her glare was murderous. "You don't even know what this is, you idiot."

His hackles raised, no one called him an idiot.

"Excuse me miss, you'll have to leave now." Unasked questions aside, he wasn't going to entertain her abuse of his intelligence. She laughed rudely at him in response, and he felt his mood truly turning black. "Now listen here-"

"No! You listen," she scooped the twin pendants off the ground and slapped them hard on the counter in front of him. Did she not know how to do anything with grace? "This is the Mark of Chronos. They made only one, a very very long time ago. It took several witches and wizards to forge the metal and prepare the mold. Before the coin had even cooled they broke the mold and tossed it into the sea. It was meant to channel the energy of the God of Time himself. This is very old magic, but not even its creators knew how to use it. It's never, in recorded history, been known to work. No one knows what it does for sure, until now. I know what it does."

"And what's that?"

"Well how many do you see?" She asked rather bossily.

"Two," he rolled his eyes.

"And if they made only one, how are there two?"

"Cheap knock offs?" He really hoped she would get to the point.

"No, these are identical, down to every last detail. How could it even be possible that two of the exact same thing could exist at the same time?"

"It would be impossible, unless you could time travel or something," he snorted as if he had made a funny joke.

"Exactly."

"You're mental."

"No, I'm Hermione, and you are going to help me figure out how this thing works, because for one reason of another your magic, my magic, and this deceptive ordinary looking necklace have roped us together. You're going to be spending a lot of your free time with me, like it or not."

Definitely bossy.

"You are definitely out of your mind if you think I'm going to believe in time travel. That's completely insane. I'm not going to spend another minute with you, please leave. I would hate to have to make you." The lesser part of an hour with the strange woman had made him exhausted and bristled and Very nearly angry.

"Fine, don't believe me, but here." She slipped him a folded piece of paper. "Read that, and at the bottom is where you can find me when you change your mind. I accept written apologies. Till then." And without a word of acknowledgement from Tom, Hermione left Borgin and Burkes and disappeared into the forming crowd in Knockturn Alley.


	3. A Quick Conversation

Hermione: I knew you would show up.

Tom: well you left me a note mapping out, very intimately, the events of an entire week.

Hermione: where's my apology?

Tom: yeah, that's not going to happen.

Hermione: whatever, you at least believe me now.

Tom: you don't even know me. I could turn you over to a loony bin.

Hermione: Oh no Tom Riddle, I know you.


	4. A Short Quote

"If you know me, that means I've been very successful indeed. That also mean you know you're placing yourself in grave danger by coming to me for help. Which in turn leads me to believe you really do belong in St. Mungos."

Tom RiddlE


	5. Chapter 3

Hermione was staying in a shabby hotel in a part of London that no lady should ever be alone in. As it was turning out, she wasn't like any lady Tom had met before. The future she came from must have been gruff and borderline uncivilized. Or many it was just that she was crazy after all.

He had gone to her small room, that seemed to be falling apart, and obviously occupied by spiders and vermin. It was impossible to stay away from her after the note she left, it had, in very intricate detail, described every major world event for the next week. Not even the best seers were able to divine to that degree.

He felt a thrill that time travel might actually be real. Oh the things he could do if he weren't bound to the laws of time. To have the power of a god seemed very appealing indeed, and fitting. He was no mere man after all. He was as close to a god as any man could be, immortal. Time travel though, it would truly place him above all others.

"You're no threat to me, Tom," she replied airily. As if he were some common bully, and not a feared dark lordling. "Or would you prefer me to call you Lord Voldemort. What a stupid name that was, really. You could have fashioned yourself any name, any name, and your imagination came up with Voldemort. You're supposed to be clever."

He ground his teeth at the insult, but held back the curses he was dying to throw her way. Time God, he repeated to himself to cool his temper.

"You are rather rude aren't you?" He thumbed the hilt of his wand absently, a habit he had picked up during his years as a Hogwarts Prefect.

"Just honest, but rude , if you like it, works just as well. Add bossy to the list as well while you're at it. A know it all too, I'm sure you were catching on to that already." She started gathering books and scrolls of cramped notes, a scope, a cauldron to dump them all in, and then her handy beaded bag.

"So what do you need my help for then, or do you just like to stalk and harass strangers Miss Hermione?"

Her response was a roll of her eyes, as if the answer were obvious and he was disappointing her not knowing the answer already.

"I must not be very frightening then, in your future for you to be so disrespectful. What a pity."

"Tom, you know exactly how frightening you can be." Slowly, as if she were trying to be patient. Her?! He was the one who's patience was running thin. "You're mean, and you have no pity for anyone. A right sociopath. It just so happens that your sort aren't at all scary to someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

"Don't you see it already? You and I are the same. Clinical to a fault. Maybe I have a bit more feelings than you, but who can blame you growing up in that awful orphanage? I'd probably turn into a murderous git too." All off this was said offhandedly, like the weather or what she was planning for dinner, and not at all like she had just accused him of murder.

"You go to far!" His voice was high and strained. Color stained his pale cheeks.

She was on him in a flash, wand at his throat. Never had he met someone so mercurial. "No, you have gone to far, and it is a trial of my strength every day not to rid the world of scum like you. It's not my place, and I fear if you were gone I would never be able to go home. You are little use to me dead."

Tom did not fear for his life, he never did, but her rage startled him.

"Now excuse me, we must get started right away."

"Started?" But he knew the answer, she had said it already hadn't she?


	6. Chapter 4

As it turned out Hermione had been leaving anyway, it was as if she knew Tom would show up exactly when he did. Which she probably had known. She had spent her welcome in the hovel of a room in muggle London, apparently her funds were limited.

The Leaky Caldron was their final destination, apparently Hermione had worked it out with the bar keep that she would work if they would give her room and board. Tom had never really liked the place. Too many people, it was a central hub for witches and wizards coming and going from London.

If it were possible her new flat was worse than the rented room. Smaller, dustier, and housing more spiders, if that were possible. Hermione didn't seem to register the state of the furniture or the cloudy window. Undaunted she waved her wand and the room expanded, furniture popped into existence, dust swirled in the air before piling itself into a waste basket. When it was all said and done the place looked very stately indeed. The only thing left uncleaned was the milky glass of the window. She must have removed her spells from the hotel before he arrived, he was loath to admit he was impressed.

"You're husband chose right when he married you, you know your way around domestic spells." It was demeaning of her skills, and he knew it, but what could he say? He wasn't a nice person, he only kept up the appearance of one.

"You're a right git, and you know it," but there was no heat in the insult. She knew she was good and thinly veiled insults to her sex or talent rolled off without effort.

"So," Tom picked up a paperweight that had appeared with the desk and tossed it from hand to hand,"where do we start?"

The next weeks were rough, he came by after work almost every day, and they read, compared notes, and debated possible spells and potions that might lead to a solution. Sleep was a low priority, and as it turned out Hermione was right when she said they were the same.

Neurotic and perfectionists, the two made quite the study partners.

It turned out that Ancient Grecian Magic was heavily embedded with arithmancy as well as forms of magic that were abandoned long ago. Complicated spells that took days to prepare and sometimes never delivered their promised results. It was hard work, and Tom loved it.

It had been so long since he had been challenged, and with the addition of being rewarded, in the end, the knowledge of Time travel, he found himself enjoying the work more and more.

They were too much alike though, and picked at one another condescendingly. Sleep deprivation and a steady supply of strong coffee made them both irritable.

"This is never going to work!" Hermione screamed one day, chucking a book across the room into a wall, it skittered under a chair and shivered for a while before becoming inanimate again.

"It must!" Tom urged, a little too enthusiastically.

Sharp narrowed eyes inspected him, and he knew he had messed up. "You don't think you're going back with me, do you?"

"Of course not."

"You do plan on using the magic though, did you honestly think I was going to let you remember anything? I know who you are and what you become. I can't stop that, no one can, but I sure as hell am not going to let you use time travel." She scoffed.

"I could keep on without you, kill you, eraseYOUR memories. What's stopping me after we've solved everything?"

Of course Tom didn't remember any of that particular conversation because she had in fact obliviated that fifteen minutes from his memory with such skill that he hardly noticed at all, except for a slight headache that he attributed to no sleep and too much coffee.


	7. Chapter 5

"Why did you come to me for help?" Tom asked one rainy evening. The pattering on the window and the lit candles almost made the scene intimate.

"If it could have been avoided, I would have never seen you again. Initially I thought I had just been teleported into your shop by some sort of portkey magic, or something similar enough. I'm not the most skilled liar, but I'd never seen you in the shop before so I felt my on the fly excuse would be good enough ." She closed her book on her finger and gave him her full attention. "As soon as I saw the date though, things started to fall into place."

He waited for her to go on, she was in an uncommonly accommodating mood.

"So I was never going to have to see you again, you wouldn't remember me, I didn't mess up the time line. All was well. Except it wasn't. Every time I went out to fetch a book I would find myself outside your shop. When I needed more brewing supplies, or a chart, there I was again about to open the door of Borgin and Burkes. It was maddening, and eventually I started to work out that it was the necklace, you had to have one."

"So the pendants are drawn to each other?" He thought for a moment and added,"It doesn't make sense. When more than one of a singular thing exists at the same time it creates a paradox. Shouldn't they be repelled from one another? Avoid some sort of cosmic meltdown ?"

"I thought so at first, but these are different. They aren't normal, and they don't follow our understanding of time. So that's when I thought if I got them close enough, they would reverse the power that brought me here."

He remembered the scene she had made, and her obvious frustration.

"When that didn't work it had to mean something else. You were the only person in that store and so the most likely variable. I don't know how you're involved, but you were meant to be a part of this."

That night Tom slept poorly, even though had kept to one cup of coffee and had left at a reasonable hour. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he couldn't place the reason for, and it made him toss and turn. He dreamt of Hermione. She was sullen, her usual fire gone, and she mumbled things that turned to garbled nonsense in his ears.

He would remember none of it.

She was a better liar than she let on. Her calculations were complete and she knew exactly what she needed from Tom, and she had got it.

When he woke she was gone, but he did not miss her because he did not remember her. Not at first.

It had been her plan all along to slip away, and she would have done so if Tom had been a lesser wizard.

For a while he had suspected Hermione to be altering his memories, the headaches were his first clue. He had never had a headache in his life, and to suddenly start was too much of a coincidence, and he put together that eventually, when she did leave, all his memories would be gone with her.

Not willing to let it all slip away, he started collecting them every night. He let her take what she would, so on the day she would leave, he would know and remember. To make sure he found them he tucked them safely away in his diary.


End file.
